Live and Let Live
by Almyra
Summary: Early in the Golden Age, Edmund makes a troubling discovery and instigates a quest to liberate his subjects...from school.
1. Edmund is Troubled

**AN/Disclaimer:** This quote has always tickled me - hopefully I'll do it justice. Enjoy! And nope, don't own 'em (except Romnus). Rats._  
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_And they made good laws and kept the peace and saved good trees from being unnecessarily cut down, and liberated young dwarfs and young satyrs from being sent to school, and generally stopped busybodies and interferers and encouraged ordinary people who wanted to live and let live.  
-The Hunting of the White Stag, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe_ by C.S. Lewis

Lucy woke to the smell of the sea that morning, and for a moment, as she did every now and then while caught between the world of dreams and her own, she wondered when her family had made the trip seaside. Then mersong reached her ears, and she heard the snap and flutter of gaily colored flags outside her window and came fully to herself. She lay quietly, listening to the sounds of Cair Paravel coming alive for the day. A fragrant breeze tickled her nose, and light from the newly risen sun danced upon the room's walls, reflected by the ocean waves.

Eventually, Lucy decided she should not lie abed any longer, regardless of how pleasant it was. She swung her legs out of bed and stood on the flagstone floor, stretching. As she neatened the bedclothes, there came a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called, and one of her handmaidens, a dryad named Mellifleur entered, carrying a bowl of fresh water.

"If you please, my lady," she said, her dry, slightly husky voice carrying a hint of music, "Your royal brother the High King has asked that you join him for breakfast in the pavilion when you are able."

The youngest queen of Narnia smiled happily and opened her wardrobe door. "Sounds delightful. Please tell him I will accept."

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Soon after, freshly washed and clad in her favorite blue dress with red slashes and piping, Lucy made her way to the large wooden double doors that led to the wide expanse of seafront. Not far from the castle sat the glittering pavilion the four sovereigns used for light meals and private entertaining during the summer months. Lucy's sandals kicked up little puffs of white sand as she crossed the beach. The sides of the pavilion were rolled back and tied with silver cords to allow the fresh breeze easy entry and a view of the rolling surf.

"Good morning, Lu," said Peter, standing out of respect for his sister's arrival, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thanks," she replied, sitting down in the chair the attendant faun, Romnus, held out for her. "It certainly is a lovely morning. I'm glad you decided to take breakfast here."

Peter smiled. He was dressed simply in a cream and forest green tunic and trousers, finely tooled leather gauntlets; with a short sword belted at his side. "We must take advantage of these opportunities when they present themselves," he said simply and took his seat.

"Where are Ed and Susan?" Lucy asked, noticing the table was set for more than two.

"Susan sent word she has already eaten, with a gracious reminder that it is nearing midday," Peter nearly kept a straight face, but the corners of his mouth twitched. Lucy laughed. "Edmund should be here soon, though – he was up before sunrise."

They sat in companionable silence, watching the glory of the morning and the ocean. Several servants, Romnus and two Talking raccoons, brought them the first course, and Lucy contentedly munched slices of fresh pineapple and muskmelon, while her brother sipped from a tall glass of sparkling elderberry juice. Finally, just as Peter was about to give up and order the full breakfast served, Edmund came striding over the sand to the pavilion, a fierce scowl plastering his otherwise handsome face.

"Uh-oh," Lucy murmured softly, and the High King turned slightly to see his brother approach.

"Trouble afoot, Ed?" he asked as the young man flung himself onto the cushions in his chair, nearly catching his sword in them as he did so.

"Ridiculous!" Edmund burst out, his dark eyes snapping with anger, "Bloody stupidest thing I ever heard!"

He looked so comical in his wrath that Lucy giggled in spite of herself, and even Peter tried to hide a smile behind his juice glass. "Is that so?" he asked, amusement in his voice. "Another of Su's suitors come to call?"

This made Edmund's frown deepen, and he shot a glare towards his older brother. "If only it were so," he said, "for I feel like beating someone black and blue with the flat of my blade. You simply won't believe this."

"Well, tell us, Edmund!" Lucy cried, drumming her heels on the carpeted sand impatiently. "Stop being so oblique! We're not mind readers, you know!"

"I went for a ride this morning," the young king began, reaching for the bowl of strawberries, "Took a different path than usual – thought I'd do a little more exploring to the south – you know, along where that stand of evergreens grow." He popped several berries into his mouth and kept talking. "I was about an hour out when I made a discovery." A drabble of bright red juice trickled down his chin, and Peter, with an expression that was equal parts annoyance and affection, handed over a linen napkin.

"Thank you, yes, I know, don't say it, Lucy – I found a _school_! A _boarding_ school! Like in – like – oh, that other place! For young fauns and dwarves and satyrs! Absolutely unbelievable – the cheek of those people – well, I shouldn't say people, they were more like some dryads – oaks, I think – and a Talking owl…"

"Wait, stop, please, Edmund – what did you say? A school?" Peter interrupted, leaning forward slightly. Lucy's mouth was agape, although whether it was at her brother's atrocious table manners or at his news, she wasn't quite certain.

Edmund nodded vigorously and piled slices of watermelon and dewmelon onto his golden plate as Peter steepled his fingers under his chin. "Yes, exactly. A boarding school. I didn't stay long enough to find out exactly what their curriculum was, but the mere idea just made me furious. Those poor kids don't need their heads crammed full of arithmetic and geography and rhetoric, Peter! This is _Narnia_! They're _fauns_ and _dwarves_ and _satyrs_! Just incredible. I tore back here as fast as I could – we need to _do_ something about this!"

Lucy's astonished gaze traveled from Edmund to the High King back to Edmund again. She didn't think she'd ever seen Edmund react with quite as much emotional vigor to anything in the recent months. In fact, probably not since before the winning of their kingdom had her older brother been quite so upset with someone. Usually he could be relied upon to be the cool head, the font of sound judgment, the voice of reason, and usually it was either she or Peter – very, very rarely Susan – who allowed their passions to run away with them.

Edmund stabbed at a piece of dewmelon with such ferocity that the juicy green fruit skipped off his plate and landed on the carpet. "My apologies," he said, as Romnus bent down and retrieved it. "No trouble, sire," the faun said, a smile in his voice. "I understand your majesty's concern."

"Do you know of this school, Romnus?" asked Lucy, her own fruit forgotten on her plate. The servant hesitated slightly at this.

"Please, share your thoughts," Peter said, leaning back in his chair, "and never fear of speaking plainly before us."

"As my liege commands," the faun replied, bowing his head, "Yes, I do know of this school – the Academy for Educating Young Minds and Tender Wits in the Ways of Most Excellent Knowledge, I believe is its full name." Edmund snorted audibly at this. "It has only been in existence for a few months," Romnus continued, nonplussed, "but I believe its masters are compelling every being under the age of fifteen summers who lives nearby to attend on grounds they must eradicate base and uncouth ways of thinking and behaving and become…civilized. Talking Beasts need not apply."

The youngest king slammed his hand open-palmed on the tabletop, making the glasses and cutlery dance and Lucy jump in surprise. "You see?" he exclaimed, whirling on his brother, "What utter nonsense this is?"

Peter wore a very thoughtful expression as he rubbed his chin. "I am not entirely comfortable with playing your part, Ed," he said finally, "For while my first instinct is to send for a company of swords and burn the place to the ground, I feel we must pay heed to my lesser instinct and investigate before pursuing such a drastic course."

Seeing how unexpected the initial revelation had been, the young queen would not have been at all surprised to see her brother spurn the High King's advice and leave to take his own action, but Edmund instead nodded, albeit rather reluctantly.

"You speak truth," he said, relaxing slightly, "and you play "my part," as you put it, rather well, Peter. I'm glad of it. But I do counsel returning there as quickly as we may."

"Yes, Ed, we will," Peter said, "and Romnus, rest assured we will do all in our royal power to investigate this school and render just judgment."

"I can ask no more, my lord," said the faun, bowing again. "Shall I serve your royal highnesses the remainder of your breakfast before you venture forth?"

"Please," Peter said, casting a meaningful glance at the younger king, "if my fair consort here is able to eat more graciously, without causing harm to himself or others."

Edmund, Lucy noted with some amusement, at least had the grace to blush.


	2. Plans Are Made

**Disclaimer:** Nope, don't own them this chapter, either. So no (Mary) sue.  
**AN:** I really did write the first half of this chapter way before I read Andi Horton's magnificent _A Sea of Golden Sand_, but it's actually quite scary how similar the first bit is to elements of that story. I do make a veiled shout-out to her tale a bit further on (can you spot it?), and I encourage you all go read it if you haven't yet (after you review this, of course!)!

* * *

Not long afterwards, feeling comfortably full of eggs, sausage, and fruit, Lucy bid her brothers adieu and left them conversing over the best way to approach their visit to the academy. She felt Susan should at least be notified of the prospect – her sister often had very good insight and advice to give, and Lucy had a feeling this would be one of those adventures where her calming, objective influence might be sorely needed.

She had a fairly good idea where to find Susan at this hour of the day, and as she entered the large, airy weaving room, she smiled to see the older queen moving amongst the looms, stopping here and there to examine progress and offer quiet words of encouragement or gentle correction.

"Susan!" she called, waving, "Good morning!"

Susan glanced up from where she was inspecting a bolt of particularly fine embroidered silk. She nodded to her sister in greeting, returned the silk to her dryad assistant, said a few words to send her scurrying away, and then moved towards the door where Lucy stood, bouncing slightly with impatience.

"Good morning, Lucy," she said, giving her younger sister a hug and kiss, "Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

"Yes, it was lovely, thank you," the queen replied, "We missed you."

"Eat a bit earlier next time, and I might join you," Susan said with a twinkle as they moved out into the hallway, leaving the clatter of the looms behind. Lucy made a face, and Susan laughed. "Honestly now, Lu, what's happened? I can tell something is close to bursting from you – you'd better tell me quick before we have a mess on our hands."

Lucy wrinkled her nose at her sister and took a deep breath. In short order she laid out the whole story, down to the last detail. Susan listened attentively, and for a moment she said nothing, merely arching her eyebrow as she often did when puzzled. Lucy had expected her to 'tsk' and decry Edmund's poor manners, but the older queen acted as though she didn't actually mind, for once. Her expression was thoughtful.

"A boarding school?" she asked, "and this upsets Edmund, hmm?"

Lucy sighed. "That's what I just said, Susan. Weren't you paying a bit of attention?"

Susan gave her a small smile. "Yes, I was," she said. "I simply find Ed's reaction to be very curious indeed. Where are the boys now?"

"I left them talking it over in the pavilion. I think they were going to leave as soon as they had things figured out."

"I think we should accompany them," Susan said, "I am interested myself in seeing this so-called 'academy.' Run back to the beach, Lucy, and make sure they don't leave without us. I'm going to pack us a light lunch. I'll wait for you at the stables."

Grinning, Lucy gave her a snappy salute and took off down the hallway, hoping Susan's distracted mood would hold. It didn't. "Walk, don't run, please!" came her sister's "mother" voice down the hall after her, full of weary patience. The youngest queen obeyed, but turned slightly to stick her tongue out playfully at Susan's retreating back.

* * *

She met Peter and Edmund coming back in from the seaside, the latter talking loudly and gesturing wildly, and the former listening with his head bent, considering his brother's firmly entrenched opinions about their course of action. The younger king paused for breath, and Lucy seized her chance.

"Have you decided things?" she asked, slipping comfortably between them and twining her arms about their waists.

Peter dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "I think so," he said, "We'll go as soon as we can get the horses ready and things arranged. Just a quiet visit, nothing confrontational."

"Susan and I would like to go along," she said, and her brothers glanced at one another as though they had already anticipated – and discussed how to deal with – such an event. "Su is getting us a lunch packed," she hastened to add, playing the trump card, "and probably changing, and she said she'd meet us at the stables."

"Well, if they're bringing lunch along, we can't very well say no to them, can we?" Peter asked Edmund, who quite seriously shook his head, causing Lucy to give him a poke in the side.

"Ow, Lu!" he exclaimed, "Peter said it, not me!"

Her eldest brother chuckled. "Would you like to change into your habit also, sister?" he questioned, "I must attend to some things if we're to be gone for the day, and so we won't be leaving immediately."

"I probably should," the queen said, "Susan will look at me cross-eyed if I try to go riding in improper clothing. But you go along with him, Ed, and keep him moving – I know how his 'attending to things' turns into a week-long affair."

They separated at the foot of the staircase leading up to the royal quarters, and Lucy took the steps two at a time, anxious to get her wardrobe switch out of the way and return to the far more interesting events unfolding below.

Mellifleur, being used to her mistress's mercurial moods, swiftly laced the young queen into her forest green riding habit and helped her step into the tall black boots that went with the outfit. She pinned a small black beret with a sweeping peacock feather onto Lucy's light brown hair, brightened her eyes with a touch of powder, and pronounced her ready.

Lucy tossed a quick thank-you over her shoulder as she swept back out the door, down the hall, and down the stairs again, where she waited, breathless, tapping the polished toe of her boot on the equally polished parquet floor.

Edmund appeared first. "He's coming," he said in response to his sister's questioning look, but several much longer minutes passed before Peter actually came out of another hallway, his valet Palomnus trotting along behind him.

"Your highness will take care?" the faun said, handing the king his traveling cloak, "I am sure it will be a short and successful adventure, but all the same, do try and come back unscathed."

"I will, good Palomnus," Peter said patiently, "You needn't worry so. Don't I nearly always come back in one piece?"

Palomnus crooked an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. "The adverb 'nearly' did not escape me, sire, and I hope that this time will prove the exception rather than the rule." He smiled then, quick and affectionate, and gave a short bow encompassing all of them. "Aslan's blessings be upon you, my sovereigns," he said and took his leave.

The High King turned to his brother and sister and grinned rather sheepishly. "All ready?"

Lucy nodded, her own smile quirking her lips, and took her brother's arm as they walked.

"We should bring your honor guard with us, Peter," Edmund said, and Lucy looked up at the younger king sharply.

"You can't mean that, Ed," she said severely, and when he glanced down at her, she saw the twinkle in his brown eyes.

"All right, I'm joking," he said, "but I should think a company of_ ursus arctos horribilis_ would make those fools see reason and right quick."

"You forget, though, brother," Peter said as they crossed through the lavish receiving chambers and out into the bright sunlight shining down on the courtyard. "You'd first have to talk said honor guard out of seeing to their honey and ant gathering and trout fishing, and I don't think that's something even your silver tongue could manage on a glorious day like this one."

Lucy laughed, and Edmund tickled her, causing her to giggle louder and wiggle to escape his fingers.

"Oy, watch yourselves," cried Peter as his sister bumped him and nearly caused him to trip. "We won't go at all if neither of you can behave. How imposing do you think we'll be if you two are acting like school children the entire time?"

"We'll leave that imposing bit to you," Edmund said, grinning devilishly at the High King.

"Yes, Peter, you do manage to put across a noble, kingly mien quite well," Lucy pursed her lips and drew her brows down and together, trying her hardest to mimic her eldest brother's severest expression. "You're quite scary, you know, when you want to be."

"Is that so?" he responded calmly. "I think we'd be better off letting Edmund scowl at them, though, since he's in the mood. Strikes fear into the hardest of hearts, he does."

"You speak truly, brother," the youngest queen of Narnia said musingly, switching tack smoothly and giving the younger king a considering look. "I saw him almost strip the bark off a particularly rude tree once. Just with his eyes!"

"Oh, come now," Edmund protested, rolling the eyes in question, "I did not."

"Did to!"

"Absolutely did not!"

"Oh, yes you did!"

Peter sighed audibly. "Must I order you both back inside?" he asked, and his younger siblings both shut their mouths with a snap. The High King nodded with approval.

"Much better," he said, quite satisfied.

Not one peep came from any of them until they entered the stables. There, several grooms came hurrying up, and the kings and queen were kept rather busy from then on, seeing to the saddling and bridling of their horses.

Susan came in soon after, clad in her burgundy riding habit, knee-length boots similar to Lucy's peeping out from beneath the voluminous skirt. Her long raven tresses were arranged in a crown of braids, and she carried a short crop. A kitchen girl followed close behind her, and Peter immediately zeroed in on the soft, white packages she carried.

"Well, now, what have we here?" he asked, trying to peek inside the topmost parcel. The servant giggled, and Susan gave her brother a light smack with the crop.

"Back, you beast," she said, "That's for later. Honestly, Peter, I would almost imagine you and Ed had hollow legs the way you two tuck food away."

"We can't help that we're growing boys," the eldest king said, grinning, "I hope you had Neebles put in some of her peach preserves."

"I really can't say what she packed," Susan returned mildly as a groom brought her gray palfrey, Mouse, out of her stall, "and you'll have to wait to see yourself."

"Are you all coming?" Edmund called from outside where he and Lucy stood with their mounts, his a jet-black mare named Noira and hers a palomino named Buttercream. "The day isn't getting any younger."

"All right, keep your hair on," Peter called back, accepting the reins of his chestnut gelding Damfino and leading him out into the sunlight. "Just doing a little quality check on our lunch."

When they had all mounted and the food had been packed into the leather bags affixed to Susan's saddle, Peter checked Damfino and turned to Edmund, who had walked Noira up beside him. "I have to ask," he said, catching his brother's brown eyes, "Can you control your temper?"

Edmund drew his brows together, and Lucy saw he was quite seriously considering Peter's question. He cast his gaze up again. "We have sworn to bring justice to our people," he said, "and I will do what I must."

The High King tightened his jaw. "Justice must be tempered with mercy, Ed," he said, "You of all people know that, and this school is hardly a hanging offense. Promise me you'll think before you speak or act."

Lucy glanced over at her sister to see Susan watching both kings very carefully, wearing the thoughtful expression Lucy had seen earlier.

Edmund finally nodded, albeit reluctantly. "I promise," he said, and Peter blew out a soft breath.

"Then lead on, O King Edmund of Narnia," he said, gathering up the reins. "We have an academy to visit."

* * *

_Ursus arctos horribilis _is the taxonomic name of the grizzly bear. I know Peter is the lion of Narnia and all, but if he wasn't, his animal would be the grizzly (at least to me). I know bears in Narnia are mostly of the sleepy, easily confused, sucking paw variety (and I love them for it!), but I don't think grizzlies would be quite so benign at all - even there. And can't you just see a company of those bears on a field of battle, clearing the way for their High King?


	3. Luncheon Is Served

**AN:** Been suffering from a bit of writer's block, especially with FEK, so here's something completely different. Since the chapters of this story are much fewer and further between, I'm not sure how consistent the tone/characterization is staying. Hope it's turning out ok! Enjoy!

* * *

The day was indeed glorious, and the kings and queens rode for some time without speaking. Lucy enjoyed being outside in the pleasant weather, and she closed her eyes with her face uplifted to the warmth of the sun, giving Buttercream enough slack to amble on as she pleased. Eventually, however, upon hearing a choked snicker come from behind, the young queen discovered that her brothers and sister had noticed her inattention and simply stopped, letting her go on a good many paces along the path by herself. 

"Oh, you horrible beasts!" she cried, turning her mount and waiting until they caught up with her. Peter and Edmund were bent nearly double over their horses' necks, red in the face from containing their laughter, and even Susan wore a wide smile.

"Oh, Lu," Peter said, finally straightening and wiping his eyes, "Thank you - that was terribly funny!"

"I wanted to see how far you would go, but someone here," Edmund hooked a thumb at the High King, "couldn't keep from spoiling the whole thing."

Lucy stuck her tongue out at her brothers, but she couldn't keep from smiling. "I suppose I did look rather ridiculous, didn't I?" she asked. "You just watch out, though! I'll have my revenge!"

Susan brought Mouse up beside Buttercream and raised an exquisite eyebrow at her sister. "Really, Lucy," she said, "Verbal threats? Is that the best you can do?" And without further ado and a rather wicked smirk, she set her spurs to the palfrey's side, and Mouse sprang forward.

Grinning, Lucy took off after the older queen, applying her own spurs, although Buttercream was quite eager for a good run and hardly needed the encouragement. She heard her brothers shout and whip up their horses, and soon Susan was hard pressed to keep her lead as they thundered along the path and down through the woods.

They burst out into a brilliantly blooming meadow, and there Susan reined in, her beautiful face flushed and framed with wisps of black hair that had worked loose from her braids. The younger queen pulled up sharp beside her, laughing, as Peter did likewise, and Edmund tore past all of them with a howl of glee. "Come on, you lot!" he hollered back to them, "No time for lollygagging!"

"Let him go," Peter said with a grin, and Lucy immediately relaxed in the saddle while her mount danced and snorted a little from being given swiftly conflicting signals.

"I don't know how close we are to this academy of his, but I'd much rather arrive in relatively good order and decently composed rather than as a screeching banshee," continued the High King, rubbing Damfino's warm neck and giving it several heartening pats. He looked over at Susan. "What say you, sister, to having a bit of luncheon before we arrive? I must confess to feeling rather peckish."

Susan pursed her lips primly and gave her brother a look that was equal parts affection, amusement, and resignation. "My lord king," she began, and Lucy fought to keep a straight face. Hearing her sister address Peter so seriously with such lofty titles never ceased to make her giggle inside. Although to be honest, she was starting to see that the compliments fit him well, and he always accepted them with grace. "If you can retrieve our royal brother before he breaks his neck, we will have a bite to eat."

"As you command, my queen," the High King said, a gleam entering his eyes. His hands moved ever so slightly, and Damfino suddenly erupted into a canter, powerful hindquarters churning, their muscles bunching beneath his glossy coat, polished hooves kicking up clumps of grass and earth as they dug for purchase and gained ground. Susan and Lucy watched horse and rider disappear into the shadowing trees, and then the older queen shook her head and gave a short laugh, directing Mouse over to a large boulder, which she used to dismount.

Lucy followed suit, and then Susan undid the saddlebags' lacings and lifted out the white packages. They took the bridles off and let the two horses wander and partake of the rich, green grass, and the two young women were just unpacking their luncheon when Peter and Edmund rode back into the meadow.

"You know, we don't really have time for this," Edmund said as he swung down from Noira and removed her bridle, looping it over his shoulder.

"Well, I don't want my stomach rumbling in the midst of our tour," the High King responded, catching sight of a little brown crockery jar sitting quietly in the midst of all the fruit, bread, and cheese, "And there are my peach preserves. That settles it."

Lucy grabbed the jar in question before he could get to it and peered at the handwritten tag affixed to the lid. "For his majesty, the High King," she read aloud, "From Neebles with her warmest respects."

"As I said," he older brother remarked, sitting down and reaching over to snatch the jar from the young queen's hands, "Mine."

Edmund took a chunk of bread and a handful of rich, red grapes and propped himself against the boulder, a contented sigh escaping his lips. "You can keep 'em," he said, biting off several grapes.

Peter took the spoon Susan handed him and wrinkled his nose at the younger king. "Good, 'cause I wasn't going to share with you anyway. Run me into a low branch, will you?"

Susan huffed just the tiniest bit and gave her younger brother a reproving glance. "Edmund Pevensie," she scolded, "Bad form."

Edmund winked at her and ate a few more grapes. "Don't fret so, Su," he said, helping himself to chunks of the creamy butter cheese she was cutting, "Just defending myself. It isn't as though he didn't try to skin me up against a couple of trees first."

The youngest queen goggled at her eldest brother, who was busying himself with the preserves and trying to act as though he wasn't listening. "Why, Peter," she said, "I never would have thought you capable of such a thing." He ate a spoonful of sliced peaches and widened his big blue eyes at her innocently.

"And against an unsuspecting victim, too," Edmund said, sandwiching his cheese between the bread and stuffing the whole thing into his mouth, oblivious to Susan's irritated glare.

The older king snorted. "You started it, brother mine," he said, waving his spoon for emphasis, "He proposed a race and then just took off. What was I supposed to do? Roll over and play dead?"

"Unbelievable that the High King of Narnia would stoop to such lows, just to win a silly race," Susan said, giving up on Edmund for the moment and concentrating on the cheese with her knife flashing almost faster than the eye could follow. Lucy saw the corners of her sister's mouth twitching as she worked.

"Had to keep the young upstart in line," Peter said and then yelped as Edmund bounced a grape off his forehead. He was about to retaliate when Susan cleared her throat menacingly.

"What was that about acting like school children, Peter?" Lucy put in cheerfully, and both her brothers looked quite sheepish and turned their attention to the food. For the next few minutes they ate heartily and well, as Neebles, mistress of the Cair's kitchens, had packed a very satisfying luncheon.

Lucy sat comfortably next to Edmund, leaning against the warm stone and enjoying herself immensely. The bread was perfectly baked – hard and crispy on the outside with a soft inside – and pairing a slice or two with the pale velvet pungency of the cheese was just right. The fruit was a delight to the senses – fat grapes that exploded in a cool burst when one bit through their skins, bright red strawberries, small but making up for their size in sweetness, tart, prickly raspberries, dark with juice, and most amazing of all, curved yellow bananas, the smooth skin peeling back with a most agreeable crackle, the flesh beneath firm, lightly flavored, and entirely delicious.

The sun was bright and clear – warm, but not too hot, and a fresh breeze swept through the meadow from time to time, rustling the flowers and the tall grasses, bringing with it the scent of pine and deep forest. Every now and then, one or several of their subjects would wander by on their own business – several dryads and assorted Talking Animals, and all were delighted to see their sovereigns out on an excursion. Peter always found a way to ask about the school they were going to visit, and they found that the universal sentiment was generally unflattering towards those in charge.

"A bloomin' embarrassment t' us all, yer majesties," said one gruff old rabbit, "I's just glad they's left us Talkin' Aminals out of it. Forbid our wee ones to go, they did, though I don't know where they got the right to."

Edmund nodded gravely. "Thank you, Master Poffin," he said, "We are glad to know your thoughts on the matter."

The rabbit bowed, his ears flopping over his head as he did so, and took his leave. Susan stretched and got to her feet, brushing crumbs from her skirt and tucking the wisps of hair back beneath her crown of braids. "Edmund," she said, "Would you help me with the horses, please?"

The young king popped the last of the grapes into his mouth and stood without complaint, ambling agreeably with the older queen to where the four horses stood cropping grass as though their lives depended on it. Lucy watched her brother and sister for a moment, noticing how much they were alike – both built in long, slender lines, although Edmund was almost as tall as Susan now and his shoulders were starting to broaden with muscle. They caught Noira and both dark heads bent together over the buckling of the bridle.

"Here, Lu," came Peter's voice, and she turned to see him holding out the cloths Neebles had used to wrap the luncheon and smiling at her. "Help me put this away, will you please?"

She smiled back at him, feeling a rush of gladness in being with her family, and set to work, folding up the cheese rind, banana skins, grape stems, and strawberry hulls, while the High King packed away the spoon, knife, and the by-now pristine crockery jar.

"What do you suppose they're talking about?" she wondered, seeing that neither Edmund nor Susan had moved from Noira's head, although they had long since finished with the bridle.

Peter rubbed his chin speculatively. "Probably nothing that concerns us," he said, "and it would be ill manners to pry."

"You're right." Lucy said with a sigh, and her eldest brother gave her shoulders a tight squeeze.

"Come now," he said, "What do you think about this academy from what we've been told so far? I've heard Edmund's opinions in great detail, but I want to know what you and Susan see."

Lucy snuggled into the crook of his arm, resting her head on his shoulder and taking some time to organize her thoughts. "Well," she said slowly, "From what our subjects have said, it seems that the headmasters are pompous windbags, not to mention they've broken Narnia's laws in forbidding Talking Animals to attend, even though one of them is a Talking Owl. They don't seem to be teaching anything useful."

She considered further and then looked up at her brother and squinted. "That's about it," she said, "I think I will wait to actually see the place before I say more."

The High King hugged her close again. "Wise, Lu," he said and turned back the rim of her beret to press a kiss to her head. "Very wise."

They stood in companionable silence and watched as Susan and Edmund put the bridles back on the rest of the horses and led them over, walking at an unhurried pace and continuing to talk quietly. Lucy thought her brother looked a bit calmer, as though he had straightened something out in his mind and come to a decision. He brought Buttercream to her and held the palomino steady as she clambered onto the boulder and then stepped into the stirrup and swung herself into the sidesaddle. She took her reins and thanked him, and then Peter did the same for Susan after they had tucked the luncheon package back into the saddlebag.

When the kings had mounted, Peter surveyed them all and nodded. "Go easy on the horses," he said, "Their tummies are full." He tapped his own stomach and grinned. "As is mine."

"Yes," Susan whispered loudly to Lucy, leaning over conspiratorially, "but only for the next half hour." Both young women dissolved into giggles, and their brother narrowed his eyes, while Edmund chuckled.

"Can't win with these two, Peter," he said, nudging Noira into a walk towards the path, and the High King rolled his eyes.

"Don't I know it," he said, "What gems, what precious jewels, these lovely queens of Narnia."

He ducked the swipe of Susan's crop, and Damfino broke into a trot, taking him out of range. "Follow me!" he called back, disappearing down into the woods with Edmund close behind. "The academy awaits our royal pleasure!"

"Or displeasure, which is much more likely," said Susan practically, and they took off after their brothers.


End file.
